Operation: BOWL
by Numbuh Phenon
Summary: It's Super Bowl Sunday, and Sector V tackles the field as they work to put an end to the tyranny of super bowl ads.
1. Phase 1

_**Operation: B.O.W.L**_

 _ **Broadcast. Obviously. Went. Live**_

* * *

The crowds went wild as the ball was passed between players. Using the moment of confusion, the runner blitz forward, and his teammates cleared the way as he charged. The man managed to make it to the forty-yard line before a mass of bodies toppled over him, the tweet of the whistle being the only thing breaking through the clamor of cheers and jeers.

Inside the stadium, away from the eyes of millions both live and abroad, Abby poked her head around the corner. She lifted the rim of her cap, searching for any adults or lost fans. Seeing the hallway empty of occupants, she made a series of hand motions, and Hoagie tip-toed out from behind her.

The boy carefully moved across the lot, overly cautious as he scouted for trouble. Confident enough the coast was clear, he hugged the east wall, taking out a screwdriver and loosening the bolts of a metal panel. Hoagie fiddled with the wiring, yelping as he shocked himself a few times. After a moment, he turned to give Abby a thumbs up as the garage door began to open.

Abby dashed to join Hoagie as their other teammates strolled in. In the center stood Nigel, hands clasped behind his back with Kuki and Wally at his sides, waving around gihugic foam fingers and sporting a team jersey respectively.

Nigel's calculating eyes scanned the lot, pleased to find phase one had gone smoothly. "Excellent work, you two. We've infiltrated the stadium without a hint of trouble, and are right on schedule."

Abby nodded while Hoagie grinned. "Was a piece of cake, chief. Good thing Nick and Chip owed me for that whole derby fiasco last week."

"Numbuh 5 still says we didn't need to give those guards both tickets to get in," Abby grumbled. "You know how much candy we coulda scored with the cash from just one of them?"

"I didn't see you trying to help with the haggling."

"Cut the chatter, we have work to do," Nigel said firmly, both kids before him muttering as they stood at attention. "We're on a tight timeline and have to act quickly."

"I can't believe we get to watch the Super bowl!" Kuki cheered, waving her foam fingers around and accidently whacking Nigel in the back of the head and sending him tumbling over. "We get to eat popcorn, buy overly expensive hotdogs, and- _ooooh_ the half-time show! It's gonna be super fun!"

"For once, Numbuh 3 has the right idea," Wally chimed in, using his thumbs to flex out the jersey representing his favorite team. "We get to see adults beat the crud outta each other live! And here I thought ya didn't know how to have a good time, Numbuh 1."

"We're not here to have a good time," Nigel said, rubbing the spot where Kuki smacked him. "We're here to perform a super doubly important mission."

"What? Oh come _on_. Everyone else is watching the game!"

"That's precisely the point! Super bowl Sunday is the only day of the year where every adult, villain or otherwise, is sitting at home on their lazy butts and shouting at the TV," he said, a gleam in his eyes as he pounded his fists together. "And while those buffoons are occupied with watching their brethren play soccer-"

"Football," Abby corrected.

"-we'll strike so fast and hard that their stuffy business ties will spin!"

Hoagie scratched underneath his helmet, trying to piece together where his friend was going with this. "So, what's our plan here? We gonna sabotage the game or something?"

"My dear naïve friend, you're not thinking big enough," Nigel chuckled as he wrapped his arm around his confused pilot. "We're not going to sabotage their petty little game. No, we're going to sabotage the most important aspect of the Super bowl: the commercials."

Wally scoffed, folding his arms. "What's so special about stupid commercials?"

"They're the best part, silly!" Kuki squealed, twirling around and knocking Wally upside the noggin with her massive mitts. "I LOVE the commercials! They're so funny, like the one with the chips, and the talking cars, and the KITTENS! The ones with the kittens are the bestest ones ever!"

"Numbuh 3, calm down-WHOA!" Abby yelped, ducking last second to avoid getting hit by the finger. Her hands sprang up to catch her hat, and she readjusted it as she fixed her composure. "Anyway, sport's actually making some sense, boss. What do we care about some lame commercials?"

"Super bowl commercials aren't lame, Numbuh 5, they're _evil_ ," Nigel said lowly, his face darkening. His sunglasses dipped slightly, but his expression didn't waver as he fixed them. "Every year adults take over the television, depriving kids of cartoons and forcing them to watch this stupid game. As if it couldn't get any more diabolical, they're then subjected to sit through commercials to be brainwashed by subliminal messaging by sinister adult corporations."

"Subliminal messaging? C'mon, man, that's crazy."

"Nuh uh!" Nigel pouted, stomping his foot. "Adults do it all the time to force our parents to buy things like number two pencils, binders, and _suspenders_ instead of cool toys and comic books; and super bowl commercials are the worst offenders! Well, this year, things are going to be different. Show them, Numbuh 3."

"Okay!" Kuki arms swung behind her back, everyone hitting the deck to avoid the foam fingers. After a bit of fumbling, the girl somehow managed to pull a small video tape from her sweater's pouch. "Ta da!"

* * *

 **Kids Next Door: V.I.D.E.O-T.A.P.E**

 **V** ideo **. I** nstantly **. D** elivers **. E** lectronic **. O** verride **. - T** erminating **. A** dult **. P** lans **. E** ffectively **.**

* * *

"If the adults want to take this to broadcast, then so will we. While everyone is in the throes of the game, we'll hijack the signal and give them a little commercial of our own," Nigel said, dusting his knuckles against his turtleneck. "With a buhmillion people watching, the KND's message will spread across the airwaves like chicken pox; our recruitment numbers will quadruple-fy!"

"Yep-a-roni! I worked all night on it," Kuki beamed. Suddenly she frowned, and jabbed her giant finger into Nigel's chest. "And you better appreciate it, mister bossy-pants. I had to miss last night's Rainbow Monkey Drama Soap Opera Hour to fix up your propaganda."

"It's not propaganda if it's true," Nigel said, slapping her glove away. He cleared his throat before addressing the team again. "Let's get this show on the road. Numbuh 3 and I will make our way to the video control room while Numbuhs 2 and 5 adjust the broadcast tower to amplify our transmission by a 110%. Kids Next Door, move out!"

"Hey!" Wally protested, jumping up and down wildly. "What about me?"

"You will stay by the ship and wait for our signal to flip on the COOLBUS' emergency generators. Speaking of which, Numbuh 2, is everything ready on that end?"

"Totally," Hoagie smirked, rubbing his hands together. "I've spliced the engines into the stadium power grid. Once those babies light up, we'll have enough juice to broadcast our signal to the Moonbase itself!"

Nigel nodded in satisfaction before facing Wally. "We need that power if our plan is to work. I'm counting on you, Numbuh 4."

"You can't be serious," Wally huffed, kicking at the ground. "Ya mean to tell me I gotta stay in the ship and press a stupid button?"

"It's probably the most important piece to our operation, so yes, you're going to stay by the ship and press a stupid button."

"I don't even get to punch anything!?"

"If all goes well, no one will even know we're here." Nigel rose his hand, silencing any further arguments from the feisty blond. "End of discussion. Let's move out, people!"

* * *

"…and the Denver Buckaroos have scored another touchdown," announced a man from the commentator's booth. He held his hand against his head set, nodding along with the information being fed to him live. "I have to say, Chuck, the Carolina Leopards are getting their butts kicked."

His partner nodded, clasping his hands as he looked down on the field. The man grimaced, turning his head away slightly. "Right you are, Nate. Right you are. If the Leopards don't make a comeback soon they can kiss their Super bowl dream goodbye and go straight home crying to their mommies."

"Speaking of mommies, the number one shopping stop for all mothers is none other than the Hugiplex Shopping Center," Nate segued, contract obligations and promises of fat paychecks fueling his hollow words. "Hugiplex Shopping Center: your one-stop shop for all your corporate influenced needs. Stop by today! We'll return after another word from our sponsors."

"Dad," a voiced whined. Nate and Chuck turned in their seats, lifting their headphones to gaze upon the two boys seated upon the couch, bored out of their mind. "Do we have to sit here and watch the game with you guys?"

"Of course you do, Chip," Nate answered sternly. "Your mothers told us to keep an eye on you, which means you have to sit up here with us."

"Besides, you should be lucky boys," Chuck laughed at his side, gesturing to the glass. "You get a birds-eye view."

Chip groaned as he sunk into the leather, Nick letting out an exaggerated sigh beside him. "But Yipper Squad 16 is on!"

The two adults shared a lot, then collapsed into raucous laughter. "Oh boys, the Super bowl is much more important than your silly cartoons. You can catch the re-run tomorrow."

"Now hold on, Nate. Tomorrow is when we get to cover all the replays from today."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Never mind, boys! Tough luck."

Nick and Chip grumbled, kicking their feet into the couch as their fathers droned on and on. Their head perks up when there was a rapid knocking on the door. Whomever was on the other side was unrelenting, as the knocking continued until Chuck finally decided to get off his hindquarters and answered.

The man approached the door, hand on the knob as he called out suspiciously. "Who is it?"

"Pizza delivery!" a bubbly voice replied.

Chuck looked back to Nate, who only shrugged. Chuck frowned, slowly opening the door. "We didn't order any pizza."

"Now that can't be right," a heavy British accented voice answered. "Because it says right here you requested extra cheese."

"Extra what? GAH!"

Strings of hot, gooey mozzarella spewed forth, Chuck raising his hands defensively as the cheesy goo coated him from head to toe. The commentator was forced into the wall, the substance sticking and catching against his suit and entrapping him. Nick and Chip watched with a mixture of fear and amazement as Nick's father was plastered until he couldn't move.

Nate shot to his feet, reaching for the security button. Another wave of mozzarella swept under him, sending him to the floor. Four more globs shot out, hardening around his hands and feet. He struggled to free himself, and sucked in a breath to call for help. One final mass of cheese stopped him, gagging his mouth and reducing him to mumbles.

Nick and Chip held onto one another in fear as the door was kicked down. However, as they saw Nigel and Kuki enter, holstering two smoking cheese-blasters, they visibly relaxed, though more than a bit miffed.

"What the heck was that for?" Nick asked, noticing his dad wiggling fruitlessly against his cheesy confines. "Hoagie didn't say anything about you stringing up our dads!"

"Apologies, but drastic times call for drastic measures," Nigel answered, crossing his arms. In the background, Kuki ripped a string of cheese from the wall, and began slurping it up. "We're commandeering this station as part of top priority KND business."

Chip regarded Nigel wryly. "You could've just asked."

"No time for diplomacy," Nigel said, snapping his hand up to shot Chuck's mouth before he could yell. "Numbuh 3, are we ready?"

Kuki nosily slurped down her last string of mozzarella, licking her lips as she pumped her foam finger in the air. "Ready like spaghetti!"

Nigel grinned, reaching into his backpack to secure the VIDEOTAPE. The device was concealed within a super omega-locked casing; football shaped, as Kuki figured it appropriate for the occasion, despite her leader's objections. Nigel walked over to the terminal, multiple monitors showing live footage.

Without a care, he brushed aside the instruments, clearing the way for the case. He reached over to plug it in, looking up at one of the screens with a sneer. The cads were playing a commercial at this very moment. "Disgusting."

" _EEEEIIEE!_ It's the one with the puppy and the horsey!" Kuki cried. Nigel attempted to dodge, but reacted too late, and was brushed aside by the girl's foam hand. She pressed her face into the screen, eyes glossing over as she let loose a shaky sigh of joy. "They're so cute!"

"Will you watch where you swing that thing?" Nigel snapped, standing up with his sunglasses haphazardly across his face. He didn't even bother to fix them as he tore her from the screen, bemoaning at how the smallest thing could distract her. "It's a commercial for _adult_ beverages, Numbuh 3. It's not even meant for you!"

"But this is the one where the puppy gets lost and the horsey saves him from the scary wolf!" she cried, tears of happiness streaming down her face. "It's just…so _precious_!"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," Nigel complained, using his blaster to gunk up the screen. He ignored Kuki's whining and whipped out his communicator. "Numbuh 5, how's your end going?"

" _Going pretty good, baby,_ " Abby answered. " _Numbuh 2's hooking us in now_."

At that, Nigel reached in his backpack and produced a pair of binoculars. He brought them up eye level, scanning the skyline for his friend. His sights landed on a tower on the opposite end of the stadium, watching as Hoagie hovered with his heli-pack, jamming jumper cables into the power lines. The portly boy turned to the commentator station and waved excitedly.

Nigel allowed himself a toothy grin as he lowered his spectacles. "Yes! Outstanding work, Numbuh 5. Standby for broadcast."

Kuki half-pouted as Nigel rubbed his hand together, slowly approaching the VIDEOTAPE box with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Can we watch the puppy and horsey now?"

"No, but we're about to see something much better. Let's do this."

Kuki nodded, coming to stand beside her leader. She removed her foam finger, opening her exposed palm. Nigel and Kuki then made borderline retching noises, then hocked massive loogies into their hands. They synced their movements, then pressed their hands into the casing, the DNA scan chiming in conformation.

The case flipped open, the video tape nestled in the center. Nigel turned various dials, then rose his communicator and prepared to deliver the final order. "Alright, Numbuh 4. It's showtime!"

What followed as an awkward pause where nothing happened whatsoever.

"Numbuh 4? Numbuh 4, come in?" Nigel spoke into the device. Brows furrowing, he switched channels and rattled off orders to Abby. "Numbuh 5, call in Numbuh 4. He's not answering me. Tell him that's insubordination and very impolite!"

" _Uh, sport's not picking up for me either, Numbuh 1,_ " Abby responded nervously. " _Maybe see if ya can leave him a voicemail?_ "

"Voicemail. _Hilarious_." Nigel said as he threw the communicator away in frustration. "What could he possibly be doing that's more important than our mission?"

* * *

"Alright! Now that's what I'm talking about!" Wally hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Go for his legs. Go for his legs!"

 _SNAP!_

"AAHHH!"

"That's showing 'em!" Wally cheered, the mayhem happening in the field filling him with glee. This had to be the best super bowl ever.

Since they went through so much trouble to get into the stadium, the blond Aussie figured he might as well go all the way. So after using his cool super sneaky stealth skills –and knocking out a couple of guards who managed to spot him regardless-the boy found himself down in the stands, leaning over the railing so close to the action he could taste it.

Wally's hands tightened against the rails as the quarterback for the Leopards intercepted a pass. He watched with bated breath as the man streaked across the field, moving like lightening as he zipped past the opposing team. He rose to his tip-toes, eventually rising off his feet off altogether as he leaned dangerously over the railing, his hands the only things supporting him.

Time seemed to freeze as players from the opposing team rushed the quarterback, but the man expertly broke past them, jumping and landing into the in-zone with barely any inches to spare.

"TOUCHDOWN!"

"YES!" Wally laughed, pumping his fists into the air. He then blinked, suddenly reminded that his hands were the only things holding him up.

Ooops.

"Oh _CRUUUUuuuuuu…_ "

Wally's screams were drowned out by the bellowing crowd. Everyone was so caught up in the brilliance of the play that no one noticed the short little boy rolling and tumbling down the stairs, picking up more and more speed with each descending level. So caught up in the hype of the touchdown, no one seemed to care as the blond boy collided with the railing and was sent flying into the field.

"… _uuuuuUUUUD!_ Ow!" he squeaked as he landed, his face dragging across the dirt. He bumped into something, his world spinning upside down as he landed on his back.

The blinding lights of the stadium made it hard to see, and he slowly rose, spitting clumps of dirt from his mouth. Okay, maybe he got a little too excited. That would not happen again.

Wally looked around him, curious as his hands patted the ground, it being a lot softer than he expected. He looked under his arm, surprised to see fake grass underneath him. Something then tipped into his lap, and his hands went to grip a football that had tumbled off its stance. He threw it up in down in his hands, wondering where it could have come from.

"Wait-"

 _BAP!_

Wally screamed as he was punted clear into the air, them once again being drowned out by a crowd that didn't seem to notice or care that a little boy had fallen in the middle of the field.

Higher above the action, Abby and Hoagie were currently trying to decipher where their little Aussie friend had wandered off to. He wasn't answering the ship's radio, so he wasn't there. They surveyed the stadium, hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of him.

Abby had her hat pressed to her forehead, shielding her sight from the blinding lights as she tried to pick out a cute rabid, blond attack puppy that was their friend. "Where the heck is that fool? Can't he ever just do his dang job?"

"Aw, lighten up, Numbuh 5," Hoagie said, lifting his goggles as he searched himself. "How much trouble could he possibly get himself into here?"

Abby was about to retort but then she picked up something on the edge of her hearing. Looking up, her eyes widened as she caught sight of an unidentified flying Numbuh Four sailing through the air. Her jaw dropped, and she could only elbow Hoagie and point.

For his part, Hoagie whistled as he watched Wally soar above them. "And he's _outta here_!"

Abby turned to give him a deadpan stare. "Hate to rain on your parade, _Mister Coehn_ , but I think ya got the wrong sport."

Hoagie simply took it in stride. "Hey, gotta work with what I've got."

"How 'bout you get to _work_ on cleaning up Numbuh 4's mess?" Abby grumbled, dragging the boy down the stairs as they rushed to cross the stadium.

Unbeknownst to the children, high above in the VIP section, another set of spectators were enjoying the activities. Well, one of them was. The other five were simply along because they had to be.

Father was slouched over in his chair, two executive type businessmen fanning him as steam rose from his figure. The villainous bane to children world-wide glowered at the scoreboard, sipping at the root beer being fed to him by his drinking hat, and his hands clutching a handful of uncooked popcorn kernels from his bag.

He watched as the numbers changed, the Carolina Leopards' score increasing as the computer registered their touchdown. His hand tightened around the kernels, and the aroma of burnt popcorn filled the booth.

"That's a load of malarkey!" Father raged, leaping from his seat and throwing his popcorn to the side. He pointed an accusing finger down towards the referee, as if willing the man to suddenly spontaneously-combust.

Which, on a normal day, he would have done without a second thought. However, this was a televised event, and he really didn't need people from the EPA knocking on his door again.

"He was nowhere in bounds; his feet clearly stepped out of place first," he whined, slumping against the railing dejectedly. It seemed things were going his way, but now the opposing team had decided to start playing for real. Just super. He glared at the officials below, yellow eyes narrowing into deadly slits. "Someone needs to re-analyze that footage!"

His eyes shifted to his two business lackeys, one of his brows slowly rising as he noted them not moving an inch.

Why was it so hard to get good help these days?

"Oh, pardon me boys. Don't think I made myself clear there. You see, thing is THAT WASN'T A SUGGESTION!" he yelled, his fiery aura bursting forth and sending the men running with their pants becoming noticeably more soggy.

"Father? May we pose a question?"

"What is it _now_ , my Delightful Children?" Father groaned, flames fizzling out as he looked over to his five children, more than a bit annoyed. Ungrateful whelps never stopped whining, even when he got them VIP seating! "Can't you see Daddy's busy trying to rig a game here?"

"We're sorry to interrupt," the Delightfuls sheepishly apologized before continuing. "But we can't help but wonder if we, perhaps, could do something more…how should we put this…interesting?"

Father frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Not that we're ungrateful!" they quickly amended. "It's just, shouldn't we be enriching our minds this Sunday afternoon? There's this wonderful documentary on the art of paint drying that's playing on another-"

"Children, children, _children_ ," Farther tsked, walking over and patting each of their heads. "If I've told you once, I've told you a gazillion times that there's nothing more enriching than watching adults tossing around the ol' pigskin with your old man."

"But Father-"

"NO BUTS!" he exploded, effectively shutting them up. "Watching the super bowl is a wholesome, respectable tradition in which adults can come together with their mutual love of the gridiron."

"Denver Buckaroos suck!"

Father's hand sported a massive fireball, aiming at the family below him. He closed his eyes, and took deep breaths as the ball shrank into an ember.

"EPA is watching, EPA is watching," he silently chanted, shaking off his hand. "I don't see where all this whining is coming from, and quite frankly, I find myself most hurt that you'd rather be at home watching TV then spending time with me doing what I want to do!"

The Delightfuls lowered their heads, lips trembling with guilt. "Forgive us, Father. We're simply bewildered by this sport. For example, why is that ball screaming? That didn't happen in the first quarter."

"Screaming…what?" Father looked out, confused as his eyes scanned the skies.

He heard it before he saw it, and when he did see it, his eyes widened as he recognized the screaming blond brat zipping through his field of vision.

"That's not a…" he trailed off as he looked down, noticing a painfully familiar red cap floating through the crowd. He dug around in his pockets for his glasses, and brought them to his face as he squinted his eyes.

There, hundreds of feet below him, were Numbuhs Two and Five shifting through the crowd. Then, as if drawn to it by some strange force, Father glanced up to the commentator booth. His eyes widened as he made out the small figures of Numbuhs One and Three, the former pacing and ranting up a storm as the latter happily kicked her feet as she sat and watched the screens.

A fireball started growing again, and this time, he didn't stop it.

"You want to do something interesting, children?" he asked, voice thick with malice. "Well, maybe I can oblige after all."

Screw the EPA.

 **-/-/-/-/-**

 **Transmission Interrupted**


	2. Phase 2

**Link has been reestablished. Now Resuming Transmission.**

* * *

"…and it's not like I ask for the impossible!" Nigel rambled as he paced back and forth. One would think these sorts of situations wouldn't phase the boy anymore, but that one person, whomever they may be, was sorely disappointed every single time. "I just want results like any decent leader. Why can't I ever get results, Numbuh 3?"

"Shush," Kuki said, waving her foam hand at the boy as she stayed transfixed on the screen. "They're finally starting to show the kitties!"

Nigel grit his teeth, fuming as he stomped over to Kuki's station. " _Num-buh 3_ , this situation is far more important than some stupid cats!"

"Not cats, _kitties_ ," Kuki corrected. Nigel rose a lecturing finger, preparing to give the girl a very stern talking to, but she squeezed his cheeks together and dragged his face to the screen. "Look!"

"I don't want to look at any- _aww_ ," he cooed, his anger melting as the adorable fur-balls pawed around on the television. "Look at it, trying to get in and out of the box-Gah! Focus, Nigel, focus!"

He ripped his head away, writing the girl off as she went back to her commercials. He found himself beginning to growl, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he forced his mind into overtime.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. I can fix this," he reasoned with himself. His eyes flew open and he snapped his fingers. "New plan: I'll go down to the ship, flip the switch _myself_ , and then call you over the communicator to start the broadcast. Do you think you can do that, Numbuh 3?"

Kuki gushed at the screen, oblivious to the world.

"Numbuh 3."

"Huh?" She blinked, looking over her shoulder. Nigel's hands were at his hips, foot tapping with a brow raised expectantly. Kuki fumbled to catch herself, awkwardly laughing to lighten his mood. "Of course, sillyhead! I can totally do…do the thing that is…?"

"Press the start button."

"Press the start button, duh," she scoffed, trying-and failing-to play off her earlier negligence. "It's just one itty bitty little button, how hard could it be?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. I thought even Numbuh 4 could do that, but apparently, that's too much to ask for," he grumbled, eyes wandering off the side as dark thoughts clouded his mind. He shook his head, deciding to deal with the boy later. "Whatever. Look, we're short on time, so let me run you through it real quick to be safe."

Nigel went over to the girl, carefully explaining step by step what needed to be done to insure the broadcast went live. So distracted with teaching Kuki basic tech-know-how, he completely missed a dark figure moving across one of the security screens.

"-so all you really have to is simply press this button. Promise me you'll do that?"

"Course I will, Numbuh 1." To prove herself, she snatched the bald boy into a hug, squeezing him with a smile. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!"

Nigel relaxed a tad, allowing himself a little hope that this mission could be easily salvage. "In that case, I should be on my way."

"Wait, do you think Numbuh 4's alright though?" Kuki asked, concern suddenly welling up inside her. "What if he got hurt?"

Nigel was about to respond, but stopped upon realizing he never considered that himself. He scratched his chin, mind whirling with numerous possibilities, but he shook them off. "Don't worry, Numbuh 3, I'm sure he's fine."

"Are you positive?"

"100% positive."

 _SMACK!_

Kuki ducked behind Nigel as the boy himself whipped out his blaster, safety off. He glared at the window, only to lower his weapon, stunned while Kuki let out a gasp. Wally had smacked right into the window of the commentator's booth, his face awkwardly smooshed against the glass. He slowly opened one eye, and upon seeing his two friends, he gave a weak wave with one of his hands.

The two slowly blinked, waving back slowly as Nigel amended, "60% positive."

Wally then let out a muffled groan as he started to slowly slide down the glass until he slipped out of their sight.

"…you know what? Let's hurry and finish up here then go check up on him just to be on the safe side."

"I'm afraid he's going to have to be a little patient."

Nigel and Kuki tensed, slowly turning to face the voice that sent a collective shiver up their spines. It was then they noticed that the temperature had risen slightly, emanating from the shadow that stood in the doorway. Kuki gulped and Nigel grimaced, not anticipating this turn of events at all.

Father stood in the doorway, his figure imposing as he puffed on his pipe. At his side stood the Delightful Children From Down the Lane, his ever obedient lap-dogs. They all gave sinister grins as they watched the two, but did not move a muscle until Father gave the word. The man himself regarded the youngsters before him and swished the pipe between his teeth before speaking again.

"I'm sorry to say that you two trespassers won't be going anywhere anytime soon." He paused, his eyes traveling upwards in thought. "Well, not _that_ sorry."

"Father," Nigel hissed, keeping his weapon steady, yet making sure he stayed a fair distance back. He cursed himself for coming in this under-armed. He hadn't come prepared for a tough fight, much less one with Father himself. He then remembered the man wasn't alone, and greeted the other children with a snarl. "And I see you brought along your little entourage of brown-nosers too."

"Is that anyway to greet your dear old friends, Nigel?" They smiled, stepping forth, but never coming between the two and Father. "It's been quite a long while since we've last seen one another."

"Not long enough if you ask me," he muttered under his breath. "What are you losers doing here?"

Father narrowed his eyes. "Now if anyone should be asking that question, it should be me."

"Well why don't you ask us then-EEP!" Nigel yelped, a spark of flame blasting the floor mere inches from his feet to bits.

The man lifted his smoking finger to his mouth, blowing it off as the Delightfuls snickered behind him. "I am in no mood to be coy with you, boy. You have some nerve trying to defile one of the most sacred days in all of adulthood! Have I ever barged in on your moments of solace and joy for the heck of it?"

Nigel and Kuki shared a look before replying with a hesitant, "Yes."

Father rolled his eyes, popping off another warning shot. "Children, after I've destroyed these brats, remind me to educate the rest of the Kids Next Door on the subject of rhetorical questions; followed by another reminder to promptly destroy the rest of them as well."

The Delightfuls nodded as they scribbled it down in a notepad. "We've already marked it in your planner, Father. May we suggest using _eradicate_ instead? It sounds much more painful."

"Such diligent little minions," he said, wiping a proud tear from his eye. "They grow heartless so fast."

"Aw, you guys are clearly having a moment," Kuki sweetly tried to dissuade, swinging around Nigel, and gently pushing the boy towards the exit. "Why don't we give you some alone time so you can-AAH!"

Father chuckled, firing off another round. The mirth he felt seeing the girl jump was priceless. "That is way more entertaining than it should be."

Nigel growled, ripping the VIDEOTAPE from the wall as he addressed Father. "If you're done tormenting my friend, then can we please get to the point? I'm quite busy destroying your subliminal messaging campaign, and would rather have this finished by dinner time."

Father raised a brow. "Subliminal messaging campaign?"

"It's too late to play dumb, Father. I have you all figured out," Nigel spoke, staring the adult down. "Every year you force these inane super bowl ads down our throats, brainwashing us into buying mushy carrots, green beans, and _broccoli_. Well no more! The Kids Next Door will shut down your evil corporate agenda once and for all!"

"…oh drat, you've found me out," Father said sheepishly, making hand motions behind his back to his children. The Delightfuls quickly caught on, and went to scribbling more in their notebook. "Well, too bad it'll never work, because I'm going to fry you brats once and for all!"

"Really? Because all I've been hearing is a lot of empty talk. It's about the only thing you old windbags are good for."

"I'LL SHOW YOU A WINDBAG YOU NO GOOD-wait a second," Father halted his wrath, flames dying down as he pointed to the case in Nigel's hand. "What's that?"

Nigel blinked, looking down at the VIDEOTAPE. He nervously chuckled, hiding it behind his back and quickly stepped into Kuki. "What's what?"

"That thing in your hands."

"What thing in my hands?"

"The thing you just hid behind your back!"

"Behind my back?" Nigel ask, presenting his empty hands. "There's nothing there, see?"

"No, I know what I saw, and I saw something in your hands."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't you play games with me, young man!"

"Games? What games? The only game I see is the soccer game outside."

"Soccer game-oh no, I'm going through that again. You tell Monty that this is AMERICA and in AMERICA we call the gosh-darned sport-"

"Father! Numbuh 3's trying to escape!" The Delightfuls suddenly called out, all pointing towards Kuki who was mere steps away from the exit with the VIDEOTAPE in hand. She turned to glare at the five, and they simply stuck their tongues back at her.

Father fumed, turning back to Nigel upon realizing he had almost been had. "Why you sneaky little-AAH!" He screamed as Nigel shot him, mozzarella blinding him as his hands clawed at his face. "My eyes!"

Seeing her chance, Kuki whipped out her blaster, taking a hip-shot at the Delightfuls and shooting away their booklet. "Our notebook!"

"Run for it!" Nigel pushed Father aside and sprinted towards the door. The Delightfuls tried to block him off, but Kuki reacted quicker, kicking the five away and trailing closely behind Nigel as they made to exit the booth.

Just as they were about to breach the threshold, a shadow slithered underneath them. It quickly shot upwards, two hands forming and gripping the shocked operatives by the scruff of their sweaters. Nigel and Kuki looked up to see the shadow taking the form of Father, the stench of bubbling mozzarella cheese greeting their noses as it sizzled away. The man's face became clear of the gunk, and the two were privy to his furious scowl.

"You know, I don't ask for much," he began, ignoring how the two tried to squirm out of his grasp. "The occasional groveling, you brats to line up-single file-in front of a delightfulization chamber; hardly anything at all. Yet when I decide I just want a nice day off to enjoy America's greatest pastime, that's suddenly asking for too much!"

"Um," Kuki mumbled, "I think you're talking about the wrong sport."

"Kuki, dear, don't interrupt your elders; it's rude," he scolded before turning his attention to Nigel. "As for you, my insufferable nephew, any last words before I turn you into the world's first one-kid firework display?"

Nigel's eyes frantically searched the room, looking for anything that could aid in their escape. Just when he was about to accept his trip to the big treehouse in the sky, his eyes landed on Kuki's foam finger.

"Well Father, it appears you've finally –NUMBUH 3! WHAT'S THAT?"

Kuki gasped as she suddenly snapped her arm out. "Where!?"

 _BAP!_

"SON OF A DOODIE!"

"Run!" Nigel shouted, dragging Kuki down the hall the second Father lost his hold. The man himself rubbed at his face where he had been slapped. He looked in his hand, seeing that the kids had escaped. Furious, he morphed into a fiery bolt and shot off after the two, his Delightful Children not far behind.

Once it became quiet, Nick and Chip poked their heads out from behind the couch. The portly boy adjusted his glasses, fearfully searching the room for any signs of the villains. "Are they gone?"

"I think so," Nick slowly answered. He then stepped out, his friend following him. The boy then took stock of the room, the screens showing nothing but static, keyboards and recording instruments strewn to the floor. Finally, he looked at the two adults stilled entrapped in cheese, one of whom was his own dad.

"First the KND shows up, now Father-this day has officially gone crazy!" He then looked to the commentator seats, the headsets and mics still operational. He then turned to Chip with a curious glance. "Wanna commentate on it?"

"I'd thought you'd never ask!"

"Numbuh 1," Kuki cried, still being dragged along by her leader as they ran down the hall. "You almost made me drop my foam finger!"

Nigel rolled his eyes, not slowing in the slightest. "Numbuh 3 now's not the time to-"

"GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

"Run faster!" Nigel screamed as fireballs flew past them. He looked over his shoulder, nearly wetting himself as the blazing shadow of Father streaked after them. He then yelped, Kuki making a sudden left and pulling him with her. Father slammed into the wall, shaking the foundation before burning a path after the children.

The Delightful Children followed on his heels, wincing and hopping on their feet as they tried to avoid the hot magma pits Father had left in his wake.

Nigel and Kuki were nearly out of breath, but pressed on. They smiled as they saw an exit, but their relief was replaced by terror as an inky-like vortex overtook them, forming into Father as he raised two giant flaming fists. Acting quickly, Nigel kicked against the wall, activating his jet-boots and flying back down the hall, grabbing Kuki with him and nearly dodging the massive shock-wave as Father attacked.

Coming around the corner were the tuckered group of Delightfuls, leaning against the wall to catch their breaths. They shook off their exhaustion, then took a confident step forward to continue the chase. That's when Nigel and Kuki rocketed through them, the five children scattering to the wind like bowling ball pins.

Nigel flew down the hallway, one of Kuki's arm around his neck while the other held on to the VDEIOTAPE. The bald boy fumbled in his pockets, awkwardly trying to call in for support. "Numbuh 5, come in! We have a code: WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! Class F!"

* * *

"Run by me again how this helps us find Numbuh 4?"

"Can't be afraid to ask around," Hoagie said confidently, leaning against counter. "These guys have eyes and ears everywhere.

Abby folded her arms, looking up to the man in question with a highly critical gaze. She settled on shaking her head, leaning against the wall as she went back to keeping an eye on the crowd. "Yeah right."

"You'll see," Hoagie said before turning to the man. "Excuse me, sir. Have you seen a friend of mine? About yay tall, blond hair, little on the scrawny side and claims to know how to spell Minnesota with an X?"

"Sorry kid, ain't seen anyone like that."

"That's a shame. Well, since I'm here, can I get an order of chili dogs: extra sloppy with a side of mustard, hold the onions?"

Abby's hand lifted to her cap, ready to rip into the boy, but decided against it. Not worth it. She then grumbled, fingers tapping against her arm as she kept studying the crowd. The game was back in full swing, and with how everyone was moving around, it would be next to impossible to finding Wally in this chaos. They were pretty sure he had landed somewhere on this side of the stadium, but they hadn't seen a sign of him yet.

"Will you hurry it up? We gotta find Numbuh 4 before Numbuh 1 starts chewing us out again," Abby sighed, suddenly reminded that they hadn't heard back from Nigel either. But given how the mission was going, she would like to avoid further conversation with him for as long as she could. "And could ya at least get Numbuh 5 a milkshake?"

"- _for the love of gum, Numbuh 5, ANSWER ME_!"

Abby flinched, fumbling with the communicator before finally responding to her leader's call. Speak of the devil. "Uh, Numbuh 5 here. Listen boss, we haven't found Numbuh 4 yet but we're getting pretty-"

" _CODE: WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!_ " Abby lifted away the communicator from her ear as Nigel screeched and an explosion went off in the background. " _CLASS F! I REPEAT: CLASS –zztztzzz."_

Abby's eyes widened in horror as the signaled die. "Oh no. Numbuh 2, we gotta go; Father's here!"

The boy nearly choked on his food, turning to her with a stricken expression and three chili dogs stuffed in his mouth. "Famthmph hmre!?"

"Yes! Now come on!" she shouted, grabbing the milkshake the vendor sat down as she and Hoagie took off down into the stands.

"Hey! You kids didn't pay for that!" the vendor protested, shaking his fists in the air. He then tumbled back as a barrage of quarters pelleted him in the face.

Further inside, Nigel and Kuki had stumbled their way into one of teams' locker rooms. The odor of sweaty gym socks and sports cream was almost overwhelming, but at this point, anything was preferable than facing the full extent of Father's fury. The two lowered their heads, muffling their steps best they can as they moved about. As they reached the far end of the room, Nigel hugged the lockers, keeping a look out while Kuki slid down to the floor.

"I'm pooped," she sniffled, her legs burning; from either fatigue or Father's pot-shots-she wasn't too sure. Probably both for all she knew. She cradled the VIDEOTAPE case, looking up to her leader for guidance. Nigel would get them out of this mess; he always did. "Did we lose him?"

"Yes," Nigel whispered, not seeing a scorch mark or third degree burn in sight. "I think we gave him the slip."

"You sure about that, kiddo?"

Nigel sucked in air through his teeth, twisting around to see Kuki cowering under the mass of Father's posture. The man had his arms crossed, staring down at them with malice written all in his body language.

"H-Hello, Father."

"Hello, kids," he smiled, raising his hands to produce a swirling blade of flame. "Goodbye, kids."

 _SNAP!_

"YEOW!" Father yelped as something cracked against his backside. The man rubbed at his stinging hindquarters, turning to decimate the newcomer while Nigel and Kuki took the chance to slip away. "What was that for!?"

Hoagie chuckled, rolling up his towel again as he prattled off. "Couldn't help myself. Your butt's gotten so big, it was like hitting the broadside of a whale."

"T-That's not nice," Father shot back, checking his figure self-consciously. "Sure, I may be hitting the Rocky Road a little bit more often, but it's only because you whipper-snappers put me under so much stress!"

"In that case, if you need to exercise, allow me to _whip_ you back into shape!" Hoagie threw his arm back, attempting to crack the towel against Father again. The man's hand simply snapped out and caught it, the item fizzling away in his grip. Hoagie blinked, then gave a nervous chuckle as he reached into his pocket, producing a half-eaten frank. "Uh, chili dog?"

Father's fists enveloped in flame as he rose them. "No thanks."

"Then how 'bout a milkshake, sucka!"

A vanilla milkshake was thrown in his face, sending him off-balance. Hoagie jutted out his leg, tripping up Father and sending him falling back into one of the open lockers. Abby quickly ran up, kicked the door shut, and used her blaster to seal the lock. Nodding towards Hoagie, the two made a break for it, meeting Nigel and Kuki near the entrance before running deeper into the stadium.

"I _swear_ on my Pappi's name that when I find you brats you'll be in for A WORLD OF-hey, is this Clayton Fanning's locker?" Sounds of ruffling slipped through the cracks before Father 'hummed' in amusement. "Get out of here! Wonder if I can get him to sign something for me…"

 **-/-/-/-/-**

 **Transmission Interrupted**


	3. Phase 3

**Link has been reestablished. Now Resuming Transmission.**

* * *

"So lemme get this straight," Abby said to Nigel as the group ran for their lives. "You brought us to the Super Bowl while _Father_ was watching the game in the stands?"

"It's not like he sent a written invitation, how was I to know?" Nigel snapped, looking ahead trying to think of a plan on the fly. "We've got to get back to the booth and launch our broadcast or else we risk losing our window of opportunity."

"I say we take the opportunity to get out of here while we still can!" Hoagie shouted, losing his breath as he felt like they were running in circles. He looked around the hall, not recognizing any of the signs or doorways. "We can't do it without the ship's power anyway; where the heck did we park?"

Kuki looked around, then pointed excitedly to the light at the end of the current tunnel. "I remember! It's straight ahead!"

"We're not done yet," Nigel said as they exited the tunnel. They were greeted to an array of blinding lights, and Nigel held his shades steady while the others shielded their eyes. "We just need to turn on the generators then get back to-"

He was cut off by a thundering roar that caused the four to stop dead in their tracks. Sector V huddled close behind their leader as they took in their surroundings. Before them sat millions upon millions of football fans packed into the stadium, their illegible cheers and shouts jumbled together into one vacuum of constant white noise in the children's ears. The field was massive, and completely empty apart from themselves. Off to the side were Denver Buckaroos doing light drills and going over field plays, while the Carolina Leopards sat on their hunches waiting to get back into the action.

Sector V looked up to the skies, seeing the massive scoreboard screen in the center. Above it flew a blimp, too many sponsor signs to count hanging from its lines. The kids stood there, flabbergasted at what they had walked into, a bit of stage fright seeping in as their images became plastered over every screen in the stadium and no doubt a gazillion more in homes across the nation.

Abby scooted a bit closer to Nigel, leaning her head in to whisper, "Numbuh 5's starting to think that this ain't where we parked."

Hoagie, however, seemed to be taking it in stride as he waved his hands towards the cameras. "Look ma, I'm on TV!"

Somewhere on the other side of the country, Betty gushed to her stunned guests that her son was the very first Gilligan to ever make it to the Super Bowl.

"Ooopsie-daisy," Kuki tried to laugh off. "I think it was the _other_ way."

Nigel slapped a palm to his face, dragging it down slowly. "You win, Numbuh 2. Let's find Numbuh 4, get back to the ship, and-"

Before he could finish, a massive fireball descended upon them, and they barely managed to jump out of the way. The ball exploded, the force sending the kids across the field to land in a groaning dog-pile. They regained their footing, and looked up to see Father hovering down in front of them.

"Consider that _first down_ ," Father said as he veered at his archenemies. "I hope you kids enjoyed your fifteen minutes of fame, because it just so happens that they were also the last fifteen minutes of your miserable little lives!"

Sector V turned to escape the man, only to stop to find the Delightful Children standing in their ways, blasters cocked and aimed at each of their heads. The five chuckled collectively as they moved closer as a predator would to a cornered prey.

"What's the hurry, Kids Next Done For?" they grinned, Sector V forced to take a few steps back as they advanced. "You're just in time for the half-time show."

"Half-time show?"

"Of course! This year's headlining act shall be the Utter Humiliation and Destruction of Sector V, performed by yours truly." They laughed, cherishing every last second of Nigel and his team's dread. "And here we thought today would be dull."

"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and welcome back to this year's Super Bowl," Nick announced from above, settling well into his persona as he relayed events happening below. "I'm Nick."

"And I'm Chip," the other boy said, "and due to some unfortunate sticky events, we'll be covering the rest of the game. And what a game it's turned out to be, Nick."

"Right you are, Chip. Right you are. Every year, children near and far are forced to watch the Super Bowl with their parents and miss out on video games and cartoons. This year, however, those lovable delinquents of Sector V have taken the field and have completely turned years of football tradition on its head."

Chip nodded, adjusting his glasses his he looked on. "They had a strong start, but it seems Father and his Delightful Children have gone on the offensive and has Sector V pinned on a thirty-yard line. It's not looking good for them, Nick."

"Correct-a-mundo, my friend. Sector V is cornered, defenseless, and also seems to be down a member."

"Hit the nail right on the head, Nick. We have no idea where Numbuh 4 is, but one thing for certain is that if he doesn't show up and do something soon, his team is done for."

Far below the booth, having finally stopped his rolling, tumbling, and flying lay poor Wally. The noise of the crowds and action roused the boy, and with a groan, he slowly got to his feet.

"What happened?" he said as he rubbed his noggin. He felt as if he got ran over by a truck carrying a buhmillion tons of math textbooks. He looked around, his memory coming back to him, and he found that he had dropped quite a ways from the commentator booth, having somehow ended up down the lower levels where he started from in the first place.

The boy grumbled, not believing how cruddy his luck turned all of a sudden. Shaking his head, he looked up to the board, hoping to catch a replay of all the action he missed. He then balked upon recognizing his friends taking up the whole of the field on the big screen.

"Hey, that's not fair," he whined, feeling more than a bit jealous as he turned to look at the field. "How come _they_ get to be in the Super bowl and I'm stuck up here doing…oh no!"

Wally saw Father and the Delightfuls flanking his friends on both sides. His hands dug through his hair, forcing his brain to come up with some way to save them. The blond was practically begging for an idea when his eyes landed on the football. He then snapped to the teams on the field, and he picked up the ball and began running towards the end of the stands.

He sure hoped this worked.

Wally hopped up on the railing, grinding down and picking up speed as he neared his friends. He leaped off the end, flying through over the crowd of his own accord as he reared his arm back and sucked in a mass load of air.

"FUMBLE!" His shriek pierced the air, the nearest team perking up on instinct. Wally then chucked the football straight towards Father before rolling on the field.

Father frowned, turning his head to the voice in confusion. "Fumble? Whoa!" His hands sprang up, catching the ball as it was nearly an inch from his nose. He then growled, reducing the ball to smoldering ash as he scanned the field. "Who threw that?"

"Fumble!"

Father visibly shrank as a shadow enveloped him, looking up to see a cloud of Denver Buckaroos coming in fast. He barely managed to scream as the horde tackled him, burying him under hundreds of pounds worth of muscle and facial hair.

The Delightfuls didn't know what to think as the watched their Father go down. Their confusion would be their undoing, as Wally barreled through them, head-first, and sent them into the air as he ran to join his friends.

"Numbuh 4!" Nigel greeted as Wally made his way back to him. He was about to praise the lad, but his gratitude was overshadowed when he recalled the boy's earlier negligence. "What on Earth do you think you're doing?"

"Saving your butts, what does it look like?" Wally fussed. "Normal people would say thanks, ya know!"

"There wouldn't be any need for saving at all if you had just followed orders," Nigel said. "You were supposed to wait for my signal to turn on the COOLBUS generators!"

"And miss out on the super bowl? As if," the boy scoffed. "There weren't no way I was gonna miss this, so I went ahead and turned 'em on soon after you all left."

Nigel faltered at that. "You what."

"I turned them on after you left."

"You were supposed to wait for my signal."

"Why?"

"Why? I'll tell you why," Nigel started, then lost his fire as his mind went blank. Suddenly the others began staring at him, and he fiddled his hands as he became a tad flustered all of a sudden. "B-Because…uh, it would've been cool…?"

Abby's head fell back, cursing her leader's need for dramatic effect twenty-four seven. " _Nigel_ …"

"Get. Off. OF. **ME**!" Father raged, using tremendous force to push the Buckaroos away. His form was disheveled, eyes twitching as he started to see red. "YOU-"

"Bunch of idiots!" a grizzly voice interrupted, and Father turned to see the coach of the Buckaroos marching up to grill his players. "That was the poorest excuse of a tackle I've seen in my life! What do you think this is, some junior high game? This the big leagues, fellas, so I suggest you-"

"SHUT UP!"

Father kicked the coach into orbit, a smoking trail following behind the man as he disappeared. The adult bent over, picking up the coach's fallen Denver Buckaroo hat and whistle. The evil adult then turned to the players, and gave a sharp tweet.

"Listen up, meat bags," Father rattled off. He snapped his fingers, and Delightfuls strolled in, bringing a chalkboard with them. The five then went about drawing various x's and o's as Father relayed his game winning strategy. "You're gonna go in there, and you're gonna go in hard! I wanna see ferocity, I wanna see violence. I wanna see you all acting as if it's every man for himself!"

One player rose his hand. "What about teamwork?"

"To heck with teamwork, it's all about capitalism!"

"I don't get it."

"Unless you want your funding to drop faster than the DOW Jones and NASDAQ you're gonna get out there, get me that case, and demolish those brats in every sense of the word! Get it now?"

"Isn't that a little cruel? I mean, they're just kids-AAH!"

Father blew the man away with a stroke of his hand, the poor man crashing into the nearby camera crew. He turned to the rest of the team. "Anyone else have any moral objections they wish to share?"

They all blinked, then howled as they stormed the field towards Sector V.

"That's what I thought."

"We finally to see those brats pulverized into the dirt." Father looked down, seeing his Delightful Children rubbing their hands together gleefully. "You were right Father; this sport is most interesting."

"Glad you see it my way, children. Now get out there."

"Huh?" They looked up, reluctant to the sully themselves with such brutality. "But why?"

"It builds character, now get!" he said, pointing a stern finger towards the field. Father watched them go, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. "Lord knows they need to get outside more…hey, you! Hold it right there!"

Father walked up to the man he called out, sizing him up. "You're Clayton Fanning, right?"

"Uh," the man hesitated, not sure if he was about to end up like his teammate. "Yeah…"

"Hi! I'm Father, and let me just say it's an honor to meet you," he greeted, excitedly shaking the athlete's hand. He then fiddled in his pants as he pulled a pen from the dark recesses of his pocket protector. "I know you must get this all the time, but could you please sign this for me?"

"…sure, why not," Clayton agreed, awkwardly taking the pair of boxers Father passed to him. Like he was about to say know to a pyromaniac. After he signed the tag, his eyes narrowed as the pattern looked strangely familiar. "Wait a minute…is this MY underwear?"

"Still counts," Father said quickly as he yanked the articles from the man's hand. His aura then crackled and he pointed towards the field menacingly. "NOW MOVE IT!" Clayton took off, leaving Father to ogle at the latest addition to his Fanning collection. "Such a nice guy."

"-you could have at least answered when I called you!"

"Have you been in the stands?" Wally asked, quite tired of Nigel yammering on about what he did wrong. "I can hardly hear myself think!"

"Forget it," Nigel gave up, mind adjusting to the information he had just received. "If the generators are on, that just means we have to get back to the control room. Alright gang, let's move out." He felt a tap on his shoulder, and looked to see Abby trying to get his attention. "What?"

Abby pointed across the field, and that's when Nigel noticed the Delightful Children closing in on them, backed up by a stampede of Denver Buckaroos. After it sunk in, the five children yelled as they ran in the opposite direction, being chased down the length of the field by their enemies.

Meanwhile, in the Leopard section of the stands down in the first row, a furious Mr. Boss fumed in his jersey as he noticed the Kids Next Door running across the field as if they owned the place.

"Of course those brats would try to ruin the game!" he growled, hands clenching around his drink. He then blinked, noticing at how no matter which way they ran, the Buckaroos followed them. He also noticed near the front were five more well-dressed children he would recognize from anywhere.

Mr. Boss looked over to the Buckaroos' section, eyes popping out of his skull as he noted Father commanding the team.

That no good cheater!

"He's trying to rig the game!" was the only possible conclusion the man could come up with. He mused to himself for a moment, looking between Sector V and the Buckaroos. From the looks of things, this would be the perfect chance to see those brats get what they deserved.

On the other hand, if the Buckaroos somehow won because of that, he would lose his bet to Father.

"Eh, why not. Hey coach!" he called out, catching the attention of the Carolina Leopards' head coach. "You tell your boys to make sure those KND brats win no matter what, you hear me?"

The man simply threw his hands in the hair. "Sure! This game stopped making sense ages ago anyway." He turned to blow his whistle, directing his team to the field. "You heard 'em boys!"

"Numbuh 1," Kuki called out, holding the VIDEOTAPE close as they ran. "What are we gonna do?"

Nigel looked back, the Delightfuls and Buckaroos gaining fast. Before he could even pose an idea, they looked ahead to the see the Leopards coming in from the other end. They stopped and ducked, thinking it was all over, but were thoroughly surprised to see the team swerving around them and tackling any Buckaroos they came across.

Hoagie slowly stood, never happier to see a bunch of football players in his life. "Well how about that. Guess you were rooting for the right team, Numbuh 4."

Wally smirking, puffing out his chest to show off his Leopards jersey. "Told ya they were cool."

"We're still in the game, team," Nigel proclaimed, pointing for the far end of the stadium. "Let's finish this!"

* * *

"And it seems Sector V has made one heck of a comeback," Nick said from the booth above, watching as the five dove into the fray. "Let's adjust the scoreboard for those watching at home, shall we?"

Above the stadium, the glowing letters reading _Leopards_ and _Buckaroos_ changed into _Sector V_ and _Doo-doo-head_. A fireball suddenly collided into the board, and the _Doo-doo-head_ was hastily changed to _Father_ as the man himself laughed triumphantly below.

"The Buckaroos are advancing on Numbuh 2, but it appears the Leopards quarterback just saved his bacon."

"Now isn't this a sight to see, Chip. Numbuh 5's broke from formation and is going straight after the Buckaroos' running back- _oooh_ that has GOT to hurt."

"Don't think anyone will be messing with her after that, Nick," Chip nodded along. "Wait a second; it seems like one of the Buckaroos swiped away whatever Numbuh 3 was holding."

"Give it back, stealer-mc-stealer pants!" Kuki scolded as she chased after the adult. She bobbed and weaved around the men charging around her, them tumbling all over themselves trying to catch her. The girl bounced on one of them, springing into the air with a flip and snatching the VIDEOTAPE back from the Buckaroos' hands.

"Yay! I got it!" Kuki cheered, so caught up in her victory she didn't notice one of the Leopards catching her in mid-air. The man held her high, running past players left and right as he carried her across the field. He yelped, tossing Kuki away as a gaggle of Buckaroos pinned him to the ground, the girl giggling as she sailed through the air, oblivious to what just happened.

"Sure hope Numbuh 3 appreciates that sacrifice, Nick. Looks like poor Ol'Donnel is out for the season after that one."

"Well, the season technically ends tonight, Chip, so I really don't care," Nick relayed as the moment was replayed across the screens. "Looks like Numbuh 1 is in trouble, but here comes Numbuh 4 to the rescue. The two have locked hands and seemed to be pulling off some super, ninja type judo combo move."

"And the Buckaroos are going down like flies! Is that even legal in football, Nick?"

"Probably not, but it makes for great television."

Below, while Nigel and Wally joined together to form a whirlwind of pain and butt-kicking, Hoagie slid in between the legs of the Buckaroos' quarterback, swinging his arms out and knocking the man off his legs. He scrambled to his feet, grinning when he saw the in-zone within range. Just needed to climb over the railing, get up to the booth, and he was home free.

He turned around, waving his arms as he had clear sight of Kuki. "Numbuh 3! I'm open, I'm open!"

The VIDEOTAPE case whizzed through the air, Hoagie's hands outstretched the catch it. "I got it, I got it!"

"No!" Suddenly he was pushed out of the way, the Delightfuls sneaking up from behind and catching the case. They slowed to a cocky jog, making their way towards Father and holding the case high for all to see. "WE got it!"

They blinked, the ground underneath them rumbling, and they looked back to see the Leopards closing in a full steam. They scrambled to escape, but they were too late.

" _Ooooooh_ ," Nick and Chip winced as the Leopards trampled over the children, the five twitching in agony on the ground. "Now that was most _un_ -Delightful."

"You can say that again, Nick. Looks like they're taking themselves out of the game."

Father frowned as the Delightfuls limped towards him. Their clothes were in tatters, boot prints all over their bodies, and their heads hung low in shame as they addressed him.

"We're sorry, Father," they said brokenly, too beat and exhausted to even bother with speaking in unison. "We didn't get it."

Father closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed. He then reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the children a decent amount of money.

"Wash yourselves off, get something to eat, and wait in the car," he grumbled. They slowly nodded, limping away in pain as the man shook his head. "Don't forget to put on your seatbelts!"

He turned his attention to the field, his coach hat burning away as red hot fury burned in his veins. He settled his gaze on Sector V across the way, and growled as he levitated into the air. "If you want something done _**right**_ …"

"Don't know about you guys," Abby said as she rejoined the group, wiping away a bead of sweat with her cap, "but Numbuh 5 thinks we're kicking some major butt!"

"Ya got that right," Hoagie agreed, Wally helping him along as he was still recovering from the Delightful's feint. "Guess you could say they dropped the ball, ha ha ha-ah _ahhh_ ," he wheezed, holding his sides. "Hurts to laugh."

Nigel nodded as they all huddled together. He caught something out of the corner of his eyes, and he looked upwards. The boy then glared ahead, directing his friends' attention to the man floating above them in the middle of the field.

"Seems like I'm making quite the bad habit out of underestimating you kids," Father roared as he raised his hands into the air. Blots and blobs of shadows flew from his suit, rising high into the air and creating copies of himself. They kept multiplying and multiplying until they nearly blotted out the stadium lights themselves.

He looked down on the kids, a displaying a frighteningly visible grin as his copies caught on fire.

"Let's see how you handle some INCLEMENT WEATHER!" He brought his hands down, the Father-clones diving towards the field in a flaming rain storm, exploding on impact and sending everyone into disarray.

All present screamed and took cover as Fathers rained down upon them, the Buckaroos and Leopards running wild across the field to avoid getting hit. For their part, Sector V stayed in constant motion, running back to take shelter in the gates leading back in the stadium.

In the commentator booth, Nick and Chip reached underneath their desk and pulled out a set of umbrellas. "Well, Nick, it seems like that for the first time in sports history it's raining evil, flaming, adult men."

"Hallelujah indeed, Chip."

"We're running out of time," Nigel fretted as he watched the clock on the scoreboard. "Viewership peaks at half-time. If we don't act now, he's won!"

"Oh! Oh oh oh, pick me! Pick me!" Kuki said, jumping up and down. "I have an idea, we'll use this!" she said, proudly extending her foam finger she had held onto all this time.

"Numbuh 3, I fail to see how that's going to beat Father," Nigel remarked dryly.

"It's not JUST a foam finger, silly." She leaned in close, whispering something into his ear. Nigel frowned at first, but his expression morphed to one of surprise by the time she finished explaining.

"Really?"

Kuki nodded.

"Well, that certainly changes things." Nigel then motioned for them to huddle close together, locking arms as they leaned into their circle. "All team, here's the plan…"

"Hiding is very unsportsmanlike of you, kids," Father raged, never letting up in his volley. He fired wildly at the field, blasting everything and everyone he could. If he had to torch the entire stadium to roast those little heathens, then he certainly wouldn't shed any tears. "Don't make me come down there and penalize you!"

Suddenly out from the gates, the five children ran back out into the field, facing the man down defiantly. "Give it your best shot, old man!"

Father rose his hands again, his remaining clones halting and rushing back to collect above his head. A massive ebony sphere amassed above him before igniting in into a burning nova. " _ **ANY LAST WORDS!?**_ "

"Just five," Nigel grinned, pumping his fists into the air. "Kids Next Door, BATTLE STATIONS!"

Hoagie and Wally took off as Nigel and Kuki cupped their hands together. Abby stepped up, and they vaulted her into the air towards the field goal-post. The girl twirled within the air, firing two strings of mozzarella against the metal poles. She came down on the other side, locking her blasters in place as Nigel and Kuki grabbed her by her ankles. They pulled her back, the cheese strings extending with her. Once she was out far enough, Abby nodded.

"Five!"

Nigel and Kuki released Abby, the girl being slingshot into the air. She flipped mid-air, feet first as she shot her blasters at Father. The man had no time to react, taking a barrage of hitd, his massive fireball ball dissipating as he lost concentration. Abby then collided with the man, hitting him like a kid-missile and sending him falling.

Wally positioned himself on the ground; hands down and knees back as he watched Father fall from the sky. He then took off, rushing to Father's point of impact. Right before the man hit the dirt, Wally hiked his leg back.

"Four!"

Father saw stars as Wally kicked him, sending him bouncing and skidding across the ground. The world around him spun like crazy until he jerked to a stop. He blinked, then wheezed as someone captured him in bone crushing hug. Literally.

"Three!"

Kuki smiled warmly as she squeezed Father. The man squirmed, but she ignored it as she began spinning around. After a moment, they became a wild, green and black tornado until finally, Kuki let go and tossed the man towards Nigel.

As soon as Kuki released Father, Hoagie went to work. He held up the girl's foamy limb, using his hand to pull at the extruding finger. With a hiss, the finger extended, and Hoagie's hands moved like lightening as he tinkered with the item. As he manually operated on the glove, it grew, extended, and hardened until finally, he was no longer holding some small glove, but some enormous rocket powered two-by-four weapon.

* * *

 **Kids Next Door: F.O.A.M.-F.I.N.G.E.R.**

 **F** oamy **. O** blong **. A** ction **. M** itt **. – F** orms **. I** nto **. N** eat **. G** ihugic **. E** xploding **. R** acket **.**

* * *

"Two!"

Hoagie tossed the large, one-use weapon to his leader, then ran for the hills as Nigel caught the finger and stood in a batter's stance. His thumb flicked the switch, the weapon glowing as the microwave-rockets at the end of the finger hummed on.

Nigel steadied himself, Father coming in closer and closer. The boy then smiled, gripping the handle tightly, and winding up for one good swing.

"One."

 _BAP!_

 _BOOOM!_

The FOAM-FINGER smacked against Father, exploding upon impact. Nigel was sent back, and Father was propelled into the air. The man screamed as he soared over head, gaining more and more altitude until finally disappearing into the horizon. The stadium was dead quite before erupting into a round of cheers and applause.

In the commentator's booth, Nick and Chip hopped from their seats, jumping up and down as they reveled in the Kids Next Door's victory.

"Sector V wins! Sector V wins!" Nick cheered. "Which means the Carolina Leopards beat the Denver Buckaroos twenty gazillion to twenty-four! The Leopards win the super bowl!"

Chip stopped, then looked at his friend oddly. "Um, Nick? It's not even half-time, and we've got two more quarters of the actual game to go. Besides, I'm pretty sure everything that happened was SUPER against the rules and won't count towards the final score."

"The Leopards have done the impossible and this game will go down in football history for sure!"

"You're not listening to me at all, are you?"

Down below, Nigel lay flat against the ground, bits of foam slowly falling down around him. He groaned, finding himself being lifted upwards. He opened his eyes to see three pairs of concerned ones starting back at him.

Abby was the first to speak. "You alright, Numbuh 1?"

"I'll be fine," he weakly grinned. "Besides, I always did prefer baseball to soccer."

Abby gave him a long hard look.

"I-I mean…football."

"Now was that so hard?"

Nigel rolled his eyes as he made to stand. "No time to celebrate. We have to launch the broadcast before it's too late."

"Relax, chief," Hoagie pacified as he jerked a thumb towards the commentator's booth. "You were out for a good minute, so Numbuh 4 went up to plug us in. Figured it was the least he could do considering what all happened."

"Hey, what are you doing up here?"

The three looked up as Chip's voice rang out over the stadium, followed by a familiar one they knew all too well.

"Outta my way! KND coming in loud and clear!"

After a moment, the screen fizzled out, and Kuki vibrated with excitement, ecstatic that her masterpiece would finally be revealed to the world. They all waited in anticipation as the commercial began playing.

 _Rainbow Monkeys, Rainbow Monkeys,_

 _Oh so very round, and super chunky!_

 _Bringing love wherever they go,_

 _Everyone's made of a big rainbow!_

Everyone but Kuki frowned as the cheery music filled the stadium. Nigel frowned, looking up at Kuki with an annoyed look. "Numbuh 3, I told you to make a commercial for the Kids Next Door."

"I did! Just wait, here comes the best part!

 _They're cute and awesome,_

 _Unlike adults; they're uncool!_

 _Rainbow Monkeys, Rainbow Monkeys,_

 _And Kids Next Door Rule!_

Hoagie scratched his chin, not sure how to respond. "That seemed more like a push for rainbow monkeys than fighting adult tyranny."

Kuki's lip trembled, tears welling in her eyes. "You mean you guys don't like it?"

Nigel was about to answer, but rethought his statement upon seeing Kuki's face. The commercial replayed, and he sighed and offered the girl a soft smile. "It's perfectly fine, Numbuh 3. It wasn't how I _quite_ imagined it would be, but I think I like this one the best out of all the super bowl commercials I've seen."

Abby smirked. "This is the _only_ commercial you like, boss."

"Oh be quiet," Nigel shushed as he dusted off his sweater. After adjusting his shades, he clasped his hands behind his back and strolled off the field. "Mission accomplished. Let's go collect Numbuh 4 and go watch some REAL television."

"Numbuh 5 ain't gonna say no to that."

Above them in the booth, Wally groaned as he banged his head against the desk. Of _course_ Kuki would pull something like this. Why was he so surprised?

Nick and Chip had scattered as soon as he told them off, and he was becoming quite bored of being by himself. Figuring his work was done, he kicked off the stool, stuffed his hands in his pouch, and waltzed out of the room, completely ignoring Nate and Chuck, whom were still stuck to the floor and wall.

The Super Bowl would later conclude, the actual team taking victory, though the kids didn't care to find out which one. There were so much more interesting things to do, like play video games, or find out if Long Lost Cousin Rainbow Monkey was still alive on the Rainbow Monkey Soap Opera Drama Hour.

Speaking of rainbow monkeys, Kuki's commercial was successful, though not entirely in a way Nigel expected. Interest in the Kids Next Door saw a slight bump in numbers, though whether it was just a good year or the commercial was actually effective none could say for sure.

The Rainbow Monkey Corporation, however, saw a gihugic increase in sales through the fiscal year, and after tracking down the ones responsible, they offered Kuki a choice; a royalty check for a five hundred buhzillion dollars, or a life-time supply of Rainbow Munchies cereal along with a Super Bowl Star Rainbow Monkey.

Kuki of course, choose the latter. While Sector V was disappointed that they weren't filthy rich, they took solace in the fact the girl was willing to share the cereal.

Only for Nigel to begin plotting a plan against the corporation later once they went through the _lifetime supply_ within the first two weeks. Apparently, their definitions on lifetime differed slightly.

All in all, business as usual for the Kids Next Door.

As for Father, the man went strangely quiet after the super bowl. Some guessed maybe he was licking his wounds after such a major defeat, as it was broadcast world-wide and his reputation would never fully recover. Until shot off a few fireballs, that is.

No. The real reason Father wasn't heard from for a while was because he was too occupied with an ongoing lawsuit with the Environmental Protection Agency, who were indeed watching the super bowl that day. As the man went in and out of courts, bribing and trying to pay off officials while making sure he didn't run himself bankrupt, only one thought came to mind that could sum up his reflection on his entire ordeal:

Screw the EPA.

 **-/-/-/-/-**

 **End Transmission**


End file.
